Vision Of Escaflowne Fan Fiction ❯ No Need To Promise ❯ Da's Green Shirt ( Chapter 5 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

"The season-changing winds,

Running along the streets,

Forever…"

"NO NEED TO PROMISE"

VISION OF ESCAFLOWNE

It was all a dream, Gaddes, I told myself as I hauled my exhausted, sleep-deprived body out of the warm confines of my bed.

I couldn't possibly have been with Eires the night before. Or, at least that's what I kept telling myself. It was impossible, ludicrous; after nine years, I couldn't have just waltzed (or climbed, in this case) into her room and have held her so gently in my arms.

I sat on the edge of my bed, gripping the mattress with both hands as I struggled to wake up and smelled breakfast cooking in the next room. I had never been a "morning person" and this morning, it seemed particularly hard to rouse myself. I yawned, rubbing the side of my face - my unshaved jaw felt like sandpaper.

Probably wouldn't hurt to shave, I thought, giving my cheeks one last, good rub, as if to confirm my decision.

I pulled myself up onto my unsteady feet with a slight groan. The events of the night before seemed so distant to my sleep-fogged brain; had I really started to make love to Eires after all these years? I had had similar dreams before - nothing more than the workings of a lovesick, over-worked, stressed mind. Had last night been nothing more than a repeat of such dreams?

Running my fingers through my hair, I shuffled across the floor to peer blearily into the little mirror perched on the wall above the washbasin and pitcher. Cupping my hands in the water, I splashed the cold liquid onto my face in an attempt to wake myself. It was part of my morning ritual - not that it ever worked. I never fully woke up until I had something in my stomach and Allen sent me off to yell at Reeden for using the kitchen as an explosives lab, or some other such thing.

The water did help me to remember one vital piece of information, however. There was no Reeden within three miles of where I was, nor, for that matter, any of the Crusade crew. I was back home, in my old room, standing in front of my washbasin like a hung-over drunk, shivering from the freezing water that dripped off of my chin onto my naked chest.

Stifling yet another yawn, I blinked at my reflection in the mirror and rubbed out the "sand" encrusted along the corners of my eyes. Having rid myself of that annoying side effect of sleep, I straightened up and studied my reflection.

It was then that I noticed the little, dark bruise on the left side of my neck. It was just a small bruise - the size of a woman's mouth - but it seemed to stand out, screaming for attention.

It all came back to me. Lying bed with Eires had been no dream; I had truly been there, giving her pleasure and receiving it in return. With a slight, secret smile, I covered the "kiss mark" with my hand, slowly rubbing my palm against my neck.

I heard Mare moving about, the pots and pans clinking and clanking in the kitchen. I realized, with a guilty shock, that she and Konik had let me sleep in - way in. I was usually up at the crack of dawn - whether I liked to be, or not - and a glance out of the curtained window told me that it was long past dawn.

I didn't know whether to be annoyed or pleased. I had never been one to enjoy preferential treatment, even if it was from the kindness of my own family's heart. But I knew I'd never say such to Mare or Konik; I also wasn't one to kick a gift horse in the mouth. If they wanted to let me sleep in, then I'd be thankful for the rare change in pace and go about my business quietly.

And anyway, it wasn't like Allen was in sore need of my services. He had pretty much told me on our way into the capital, that the crew and I would be left to our own devices. We could do what we wanted - within reason. My only duty was to see to it that none of the "boys" did something to land themselves into the slammer. Which, when I paused to think of it, was a more daunting task than cleaning the Shezarahad with a toothbrush!

Suddenly, my growling stomach alerted me to the fact that I hadn't eaten anything in several hours; the smell of bacon was beginning to rival the spicy, exotic scents of an Ezgardian market. I quickly grabbed my pants and shirt from the nearby chair and slipped into them, not noticing (or caring) how wrinkled and worn they were.

I turned toward the mirror one more time, splashed some more water on my face, and then reached for the nearby, lidded bowl of shaving cream. I tried to remember when was the last I did shave; I dimly recalled doing it one morning on the Crusade, on our way in from Fort Castelo, but I couldn't be sure.

That was beside the point, anyway. The fact still remained that I desperately needed to shave, or else I'd be in danger of growing a full-fledged beard. The idea of having a beard sent shudders of revulsion through my being; there was no way in Gaea that I would allow such a hideous growth of hair to prosper on my face. I will admit, though, I had often contemplated a mustache, but had come to the conclusion that that was for dandies and married fathers - of which I was neither.

Now Allen could stand to have a mustache, I thought wickedly, grinning at my reflection, mirth dancing in my eyes.

The mental picture of my fresh-faced commander sporting a thick mustache, drooping along the corners of his mouth and past his chin, was enough to send anyone into hysterics. I couldn't resist a snicker or two - especially when I recalled the look of abject horror on Allen's face when I had jokingly suggested he consider such a thing.

Not that I was saying that Allen was a dandy - far from it. He was more of a man than most, despite his belying feminine features and long, glossy blond hair. And he might have been a father, but he certainly wasn't married; it was just that I thought it make him look a bit older. And…well…less like a woman.

But, still - Allen with a mustache? Somehow, it didn't suite his cavalier, gallant, knightly ways. And who ever heard of a Knight Caeli with a mustache, anyway? Or, at least, that's what he had protestingly told me.

I mused over such thoughts as I lathered my face and carefully scraped the cold metal of the razor blade over my cheeks and jaw. I finished my grooming duties rather quickly and stood, admiring my freshly shaved features, for several minutes. I rubbed my chin for good measure; my face was as smooth as ever. However, there was still a dark shadow on the lower half of my face - it never seemed to go away, regardless of how close I shaved.

It was a permanent feature of my appearance; one that I had long ago come to peaceful terms with. Shrugging my shoulders, I pulled the open ends of my unbuttoned shirt closer across my chest. I remembered the look in Eires' eyes as she had slowly bared my upper torso the night before; the way her eyes had widened with delight when she had seen how I had grown and filled into to my broad chest and thick shoulders.

Stuffing my shirttails into my pants, I glanced into the mirror one final time and frowned.

Damn! She could have picked a less conspicuous place to bite me! I thought with some small amount of annoyance, touching the mark on my neck, which my large collar failed to hide.

The damage was done in the heat of passion, however. Eires had simply done to me what I had done to her - the problem was, I sort of wished the marked places had been switched. Eires, with her high-collared, stiff dresses, would have an easier time of hiding such a treacherous blemish than I would, with my open necked shirts.

Maybe I can bum a pin or two from Mare, I thought hopefully, pulling the edges of the collar together - only then was the kiss mark covered.

But I knew that such a request would only cause awkward questions. I knew that Mare, not in a thousand years, would suspect me of sleeping with Eires, but the knowledge that she would think it the affection markings of a whore didn't make me feel any better. Certainly, I had had women - and many of them - in the past years, the majority of them after I had gone to sea and had been separated (I had thought then, forever) from my beloved. But now that I was back, after I had kissed, and touched, and loved my Eires, I didn't want to be placed in the cheap category of men who paid for pleasure.

I considered asking Konik for one of his shirts, but I knew that would be futile. My younger brother had always been slimmer than I, and I knew that I would never be able to button one of his shirts across my chest.

I growled, tugging in frustration at the ends of my collar. At one time, the shirt had had buttons clear up to the top of the collar, but no more. I had owned the shirt for several years, and somewhere along the course of its wash and wear, the top three buttons had mysteriously disappeared. Up until now, that fact had never bothered me, since I had never, in the whole course of my short life, buttoned any shirt the whole way.

There was nothing I could do except let Mare and the rest ponder on my supposed sins. Stifling a deep sigh, I turned away from the mirror, gave the rumpled covers of my bed a half-hearted tug in an attempt to straighten them, and then strolled nonchalantly out the door, into the hall.

I almost immediately ran into Konik.

"Oh! Good mornin'," he grinned up at me; I held my breath.

Would he see it? For several minutes, it seemed that he wouldn't, as he chattered away cheerfully. Konik had always been the damnable early bird, sent to get his worm of a brother out of bed.

"Mare wanted me to get ya'," Konik continued, a bit breathless.

I wondered what he had been doing to pant like that. Surely he didn't run all the way from the stables, just to pull my lazy ass out of bed?

"Well…it would seem for once that I beat you to it," I replied, with a ghost of a smile.

"So it would, so it would," he nodded his head absently, patting me on the bicep. "She just left - Mare, I mean - to go to the palace an' `er duties, but she's left us one `ell o' a breakfast."

"Sounds good to me," I rubbed my growling stomach as Konik turned and lead the way into the modest little kitchen.

"Ya' really should come `round more often, Gaddes," Konik announced as he lifted the lid off of a steaming bowl of what appeared to be fried potatoes. "I eat better."

I laughed comfortably at his flippant comment.

"So do I," I gave him a honest-to-goodness grin, forgetting, for the moment, about the telltale mark on my neck.

As luck would have it, then was the moment that Konik saw it. His smile wavered and he looked at me with questioning eyes as he passed the eggs.

"Um…Gaddes?"

I should have known by the tone of his voice that something was wrong, but I had sat down by then and was totally immersed in the task of filling up my plate.

"Yeah…?" I asked distantly.

Konik cleared his throat - throat clearing had always been a red flag in my family that someone was about to venture onto troubled waters. I glanced up in concern, my appetite suddenly failing me.

"What's that…er…mark on your…um…neck from?" Konik ran the edge of his forefinger across the tip of his nose, a habit he had since childhood, belaying his nervous apprehension.

"…Mark…?" I squirmed in my chair, fighting the urge to suddenly reach up and cover it from my brother's prying green eyes.

"Yeah," Konik didn't seem impressed by my none-too subtle stalling tactics.

"What's so…unusual…about a…er…mark on my neck?" I fidgeted uneasily, absently mauling my sausage with my knife.

"Well…I don't presume to know much `bout these things…but…I'd say that was…a…er…what-ya'-call…a `kiss mark'…" Konik's voice faded away uncertainly.

"Yeah, I guess it is," I forced a laugh, hoping it sounded rueful, finally reaching up and rubbing the incriminating spot. "So I went out on the town and got a little drunk and crazy - just don't tell Mare, all right? I'm sure she'd have something to say and I don't particularly want to hear it," I laughed again, for good measure, trying to remain calm and outwardly cool.

Konik wasn't fooled, though. I was about to learn that he had never been fooled.

"Ya' went to Eires last night, didn't ya'?" his voice wasn't condemning or accusatorial - just unsettlingly resigned.

I started despite myself, completing blowing my cover by the look I knew crossed my face.

How could he possibly know!? I cried out inwardly.

Outwardly, I tried to collect what little dignity I had left and managed to sputter,

"How…what would make you think that? Surely…I mean…you don't…you're not talking about Princess Eires?"

"She's the only Eires I know o'," Konik shrugged. "Unless, o' course, ya' know o' `nother?" he looked at me, almost hopefully, as if he wished that that were true.

I was half-tempted to tell him "yes", that I had met some whore in Palas' red light district and that she was, indeed, named after the refined, royal daughter. But I had never been good at lying to begin with and it simply didn't feel right to deceive family.

"How did you know?" I asked simply.

"I've known for a long time," Konik picked up a piece of bacon and looked at it thoughtfully, as if relieving the past in his mind. "Since before ya' left home."

"How?" I repeated gently, trying to keep his thoughts on track.

"I…I…" Konik's ears suddenly turned pink and he glanced down hastily at his plate, laughing a bit. "I…accidentally walked in on ya' an' Eires once -"

Now I could feel my own ears turn red, the color creeping up across my cheeks and my nose. I dreaded to think of what exactly he had seen - but I simply had to know.

"Doing…what?"

"Well…ya' know…" he played with the end of his fork. "Kissin'…an'…stuff…it wasn't…too bad, ya' know," he glanced up me, the beginnings of a smile daring to twitch at the corners of his mouth. "Ya' both at least `ad most o' ya're clothes on at that point."

I stared at Konik in blank amazement. He had known all these years and had never told a soul? I asked him that and he nodded solemnly.

"Never peeped a word," he crossed himself, as if to prove his point.

"But…why?" I was a bit flabbergasted; I had never intended for Konik to keep my secrets for me, though I was certainly grateful that he had.

"Ya're my brother," Konik shrugged as if that settled the matter. "Ya're family - we look out for each other, y'know."

"Even when your older brother is your princess' forbidden lover?" I cocked a cynical eyebrow.

"Even if ya're the Princess' lover," Konik nodded his head serenely. "I might o' been young, but I ain't never been stupid. I knew even then that the two o' ya' were `appy an' that ya' loved each other."

I was astounded by Konik's statement of trust and assurance. So astounded, in fact, that I couldn't at first think of anything to say. I just sat there, across the table from him, my mouth slack in speechless astonishment.

"You know this can only end in disaster," I finally found my tongue, glancing down for inspiration at my half-eaten, lukewarm breakfast.

"Perhaps," Konik replied softly. "An' perhaps not. Ya're a man, Gaddes - ya've always been your own man. It's not my place, or the place o' anybody else, to stand in your way; I'd expect ya' to do the same for me."

"Thank you, Konik," I murmured, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Though…I do think you should be more careful this time `round," Konik added slowly. "An' I think ya' should be more discreet in how ya' carry out your liaisons. I mean - meetin' in the Princess' own bedroom sure ain't a smart thing to do."

"No…no, it's not," I agreed, around a mouthful of eggs and sausage.

I thought about what had happened last night - about Millerna walking in on us. Gods! How embarrassing that had been, but I knew that it couldn't have been any less embarrassing for Millerna. I just hoped, for all our sakes, that she hadn't been able to see too much in the darkness.

I realized that thinking about anything related to last night wasn't doing me much good. I could feel my ears- and other places less comfortable - getting hot at even the most skirting thought about what had taken place just hours before. I shifted in my seat, keeping my eyes firmly glued to my plate, praying to what gods were out there, that Konik would stop staring at me with such an intent expression on his face.

Of course, the more I tried not to think about it, the more my thoughts were crowded with the memory of Eires' soft moans and cries, and the way she had pressed up against me in silent pleasure, eager for more. I coughed slightly and risked a hazardous glance in Konik's general direction; I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that the saltshaker had diverted his attention.

Despite the inappropriateness of the situation, I allowed my thoughts to finally run free. I knew that Eires had been startled when I had touched her so intimately - I had felt it in the way her body had tensed uncertainly beneath my hands. I had never done such a thing to her ever before.

It was a trick that I had picked up from my more sexual endeavors over the years; even though I wasn't particularly proud of myself for having run to other women in place of Eires, I was pleased to note that what I had learned had the same effect on any woman, regardless of her station in life. The only thing I wished for was a chance to finish what I had started. But, Konik was right; from now on, Eires and I would have to be far more discreet in choosing places to meet privately - or, to meet in any context.

Princesses simply didn't condescend to speak on the level of "stable boys" and plain army sergeants. Such things were beneath their dignity - much less making love with said stable boy/sergeant.

"You finished?" Konik's quiet voice broke my reverie.

"Huh?" I glance up, startled and a bit abashed. "Finished with what?"

Konik waggled his finger at my plate. When I glanced down at it, I saw that the only speck of food left on it was a bite or two of sausage.

So engrossed was I in my thoughts, that I hadn't even noticed that I had been eating! I laughed, speared the two remaining pieces of meat with my fork and nodded my head.

"Yeah - I'm done."

The sausage promptly disappeared.

"Good…let's clean the dishes for Mare, an' then I think ya'd better find a better shirt," Konik pointed at my neck.

"Good idea," I chuckled and then paused. "Is there a shirt in this house that'll fit me?" I gazed pointedly at Konik's narrow chest.

"Yeah - come on, I'll go show you," Konik stood up and motioned for me to follow him.

With a grunt, I pulled myself up out of my seat and lumbered after my younger brother. He led me to the back of the house, unlocking the door at the very end of the hall. My heart sank as I recognized where we were going - to Da's old bedroom.

"Konik…?" I hesitated at the door, reluctant to step foot inside of a room filled with old, painful memories.

Konik glanced over his shoulder at me and then sighed. He didn't say anything, nor did he indicate that I should join him. So I stood awkwardly at the threshold, hooking and unhooking my thumbs in my pockets, thinking desperately of something intelligent to say or do.

My brother spared me the anguish. He swiftly walked over to the trunk that stood at the foot of Da's old bed, fumbled momentarily with the lock, and then flung it open.

He rooted about in the old, weathered, wooden and brass heirloom - made by our grandfather's own hand - before pulling out what he had been looking for. An old, familiar green shirt was clutched in his fist.

"Should go nicely with the vest," he handed me the shirt, an uncertain smile tottering on his lips.

"Yeah…" I took the shirt slowly from his hands, rubbing my fingers against the smooth, cotton fabric.

It had been Da's favorite shirt; I couldn't count all the times and occasions I had seen our father pad about in this very piece of clothing, his sleeves rolled up and neck exposed, the same as mine. It was all I could do to keep the tears from coming.

"You…uh…you sure this'll fit me?" I shook my head as if to shake my emotions away and glanced uncertainly at Konik.

"Ya're the spittin' image o' Da," he nodded, confirming what I had suspected over the years. "Out all o' us, ya've got the closest to `is build an' features. Ya've got `is chest an' `is shoulders - if anythin', this might be a wee bit big for ya'."

"It'll get the job done," I grumbled, holding the shirt out in front of me and surveying it with a critical eye. "As long it has buttons where mine doesn't."

"I'm sure it does," Konik chuckled softly. "Da was an impeccable man."

"I guess that's one trait I failed to pick up on," I smiled sadly.

I patted Konik on his shoulder in a silent "thank you," before turning and walking away toward my room, to put on Da's old shirt. It fit perfectly and all the buttons were there; I was able to hide Eires' "affectionate" kiss mark, even though I hated the feel of the cotton buttoned so securely beneath my chin. I frowned into the mirror, hooking one of my fingers between the shirt and my neck, tugging at it, trying to make it more comfortable.

Of course, such an attempt was an exercise in futility - I finally realized why I had never before buttoned the top three buttons on any given shirt. It was a simple matter of breathing. Having a shirt securely fastened right on top of one's Adam's apple wasn't conducive to an easy intake of air.

However, I knew I'd have to get used to it, or be subject to unpleasant inquiries and curious stares for the rest of the week.

I'll have to tell Eires to choose a more easily hidden spot next time, I thought as I stepped once more outside of my room, rolling the green sleeves up past my elbows, not even realizing that I was doing so.

I popped my head into the kitchen and spied Konik at the sink, busily scrubbing our breakfast dishes. I slunk in, grabbed a nearby towel, and proceeded to dry the dishes already set out on the counter beside the washtub.

We worked in silence - I couldn't really think of anything to say and Konik seemed content to contemplate his private thoughts. With the lack of conversation, my own thoughts wandered, settling uncomfortably somewhere between the shirt that I was wearing and the passionate events of the night before.

"Where…where is Da…now?" I wondered out loud, unable to say the word "buried."

It was a hard thing for me to think about, much less ask, but I didn't feel that now was the time to dwell on Eires or our love. Not with Da's shirt rubbing softly against my skin - if I turned my head, toward the collar or sleeve, I could still make out the faint scent of horses, hay, and good, fragrant pipe tobacco.

Da's scent - as unique and special as the man himself. A scent of memories. A scent of the past.

"He's out in the family plot," Konik murmured, handing me the last plate.

The Connemara family had served as stable boys and masters for as long as the Aston line had reigned on the Asturian throne. That was almost two hundred years in total and we had been granted a place on the palace grounds to bury our dead ever since the first family death, generations back.

I knew the place well; I had visited it often with my siblings and with Eires in my childhood, to sit at my mother's grave. It was a little ways behind the horse stables, in the center of a ring of trees. Da had called it the "Faery Rath" - the ring of trees that is. His words echoed in my ears,

"It's a good place to bury the dead. A quiet place; a place of magic. Such is the place to put the soul to rest, eh, Gaddes?"

And then he would always ruffle my hair affectionately, set a bouquet of flowers beside my mother's headstone, and hold my little hand in his big, rough paw as he lead me away, back to the life and bustle of every day.

"Are ya' goin' to go see `im?" Konik turned and demanded softly, his eyes kind and gentle.

"Aye," I nodded numbly. "It's the least I can do."

I turned and shuffled toward the front door, my shoulders slumping forward in dread of the task that I had set before myself. Suddenly, I paused, my hand on the doorknob, and turned toward Konik.

"Do you think Da can hear me?" I questioned, my voice barely even a whisper.

Konik nodded mutely - he knew what I meant. Perhaps I could never tell Da in person what I had meant to say so many years ago, but, if there truly was a heaven, he'd be looking down and hear me anyway. Perhaps then, he'd finally understand what was really in my heart.

It had never been anger, it had never been bitterness, and it had never been hatred. It had only been love, as young, green, and untried as it was. Perhaps Da would hear.

And understand.

* * *

I knelt beside the slightly raised mound of grass, my knees digging into the soft, moist earth. I rested a shaking hand on the gray granite of Da's headstone, already covered with moss, even though it had barely been a month since he was laid to rest, to become one with the dust from which he was taken.

With a groan, I leaned forward, resting my forehead against my palm, my cheeks pressed against the cool stone. I could no longer keep the pain and anguish back. For the first time in nine years, I finally let my heart take over.

The tears came, then, coursing uncontrollably down my flushed cheeks.

* * *

"Da! You've been down here the entire time…listening?"

"It's time you heard some reason, boy."

"About what?"

"About this…this…affair you're having. Forget the point that both of you are too young be engaging in such foolishness, but she's the crowned princess, for the mercy of the gods!"

"I love her, Da! And she loves me!"

"It doesn't matter, you foolish son! Can't you see? Something like this can only end in ruin - you heard what she said."

"And so did you, apparently; you had no right to listen in, Da!"

"I have every damned right to look out for the best interests of my eldest son, when he's too foolish to do it himself!"

"What's so wrong with love?"

"There's nothing wrong with love! What's wrong is loving outside your station!"

"Damn the fucking `station'!"

"Don't you dare use that language with me, boy!"

"Just leave us in peace, Da!"

"Leave you in peace? Leave you in peace when you've gone and impregnated King Aston's second eldest - and favorite - daughter? Leave you in peace when you've caused a scandal that's certain to be the ruin of our family, our Royalty, and our nation? You're the one who should be leaving the rest of us in peace!"

"I can't just walk out on her, Da! Not now!"

"Now is exactly the time to leave! You know as well as I do what she's gone and done - she's told her maid."

"So? She said she could trust the girl."

"And you believe that? The only women I've ever run across who can keep their mouths shut are your sister, Princess Eires, and you mother - bless her soul. You mark my words, that whole palace will know tomorrow what's happened. And so will King Aston. You'd just better thank the Fates that the Princess had enough sense not to tell her `trusted maid' your name!"

"So what if King Aston knows? No harm will come to Eires, or to the baby."

"Perhaps not - but harm will most certainly come to you. Do you think he'll just open his arms and embrace you as an acceptable son-in-law? You - the son of a Commoner?"

"Why should it matter?"

"It shouldn't - but it does. And that's all that matters, Gaddes. You should have known better than to do something like this."

"So it's my fault! We both wanted it. What's so wrong about wanting to be happy?"

"And did you, Gaddes, being the responsible man that you suddenly think you are - did you ever think about the happiness of that child?"

"…"

"I thought as much."

"Eires and the baby will be all right…"

"And what about you, huh? What about you?"

"I'm staying here."

"The hell you are!"

"Why do you want me to leave? Are you suddenly ashamed to call me your son?"

"Damn right I am! I'm ashamed that I raised a son who was stupid enough to let his hormones get the better of him. I thought I had taught you to think with your head, not your damn crotch - apparently, I thought too highly of you."

"What the hell do you want me to do?"

"I want you to get the hell out!"

"To spare you the embarrassment of having to say, `yeah, that's my son'?"

"I wouldn't even claim you as my son after this. I don't think I even know you anymore."

"Yeah? Well…you want to know something, Da? I don't think I know you anymore!"

"And who's fault is that, now, I wonder?"

"Go to hell!"

* * *

I touched my cheek, wet with tears, as if I could still feel the sting of my father's hand. I realized now, with age, with time, and with wisdom, that I had spoken terribly out of turn.

I had been wrong.

Da had always been right.

And he had never said the things he had said on purpose. They were hollow words, born of his anger and his disappointment in me. They didn't come from his heart, as I had foolishly believed so many years before.

He had simply wanted me to leave - to save myself the humiliation of the hangman's noose. To save Eires the pain of seeing her lover strangle before her eyes. To save himself the shame of watching his eldest son - his pride - die like a common criminal.

You were only trying to save us all, Da. I wish to the gods that I had realized that then, I chewed the inside of my cheeks, trying to stifle the heart-wrenching sobs wracking my body.

I would never regret loving Eires. I would never regret my choice to defy custom and tradition, in taking her into my arms and loving her. I would never regret anything that I had done, except the pain that I had caused to those I loved - and the words that I had spoken in anger against Da, little imagining that they would be the last that I would ever tell him.

"I'm sorry, Da," I whispered, my voice choked with tears. "I'm sorry…"